The Silence of My Voice

For the better part of the year, most days were dead reality. They came in each day with no itinerary, or an upshot. We really put the motion, in going through the motions; so much so, just an old song was enough on days to unnerve. There are  a lot of people, who lost a thing or a person too many this year. Jobs, family, friends, projects, hopes, dreams... A lot of things, for a lot of us died this year. As one of the smarter species, we're quite brainlessly assaying to depart to better things, only because we couldn't hold on to a good thing. That's a folly. No one ever found anything better by leaving a good thing behind. You find a good thing, feel lucky for having so, and work to the bone at making it better. And, this is an underlying issue with most of us - assuming we'll find a better thing, because we have gotten used to having everything facilely. And, even more of us have forgotten that struggle is what makes that good thing far superior, because you know you...

Remember when we were kids, and the sporadic, puny feats would make us feel invincible enough to grow up to be anything we wanted? And, there wasn't just one role we anticipated ourselves playing; there were volumes of them. Yes. How's that going, by the way? As children, we manifest ourselves to ourselves at multiple chances. As we grow - and, I don't mean grow up, but grow older - we tend to do this in our own times; in secret places, behind closed doors. I don't reckon it's the apprehension of being held up to an opinion, and flak all the time, but despondency in our own selves. So, we find ways to create; or, better yet, escape. I'm aware, I've spoken enough about it, but this place holds a special place in my heart. Deer Park girdles every Sunday morning with my parents, as a kid. It skirts my bunk schedules in college, to hide in a cafe writing, overlooking the lake, and the forest beyond. It contains all my low points, and long walks of woe. It's ...

There are infinite moments between where we're now, and where we wish to be. Though, it's glib how we're never chuffed with our current situation. And, we're easily petrified of the space that keeps us apart from our wishing place. Some people call it future planning. Though, I'm not sure it really is that. Money, no object, success, healthy relationships - the usual memo? Although while ticking through the checklist that gets you there, or wherever else you anticipate, do you have a list to make sure you're taking more with you, than leaving more behind? Didn't reckon so.  We ardently lie to ourselves about what it is we want, because we either aren't brave enough to accept what we want, or zealous enough to put in the work to verily seize the same. And, once we stop lying to ourselves, that's the most truthful we'll ever be in our lives.  There's an elephant in the room that we never address, mostly because there's a multiverse of rooms...

Hello. Another year. Another Day One. I'm fully cognizant of how quickly this particular year has gone by. 2019 began on a note that was very consistent with 2018. And people who were around in either or both those years know which direction I'm prompting them toward. This was one of the years I never would have even hallucinated to turn out the way it did.  Imagine a low exposure picture of a speeding car - that's the vignette that'll always emanate whenever I'll speculate about 2019. But while I was in that car that was darting towards the yearend, I retain every single detail. Everything that I did unsoundly, or soundly, arresting, or passable, I witnessed a lot about the kind of person I want to be ten years from present day. One of the things I learned is, there's a very petite space between any two people that's tacit. It's also unto us what to fill that space with. And it's a potent misconception that filling that room up with words wi...

Hello. It's Day One. So this year I've decided to talk to people I know who've influenced my life, or the changes in them and take something from them to write about. It could be something I share with them, or something that has affected them or impelled them to undergo a reform. I start this one with Vami, for whom looking within has begun to mean a lot more. In a city where everyone pencils in their day around local train timings, everyone is living in a playlist they created for themselves. Only, most of us forgot to uncheck the repeat button. We wake up everyday, with either alacrity or bitterness, and rerun through the loop. We, though, don't wake up to ourselves.  Struggles come in a lot of different forms for everybody. And this is something that keeps most of us up in the middle of the night. Work, money, love, drugs - name it. And there are some of us attempting to run away from ourselves to avert any confabulation about the same. But I figure abscondi...

Hello. It's Day Five! The naked honesty of, Ambiguous glances, There's that dishonour pertaining, of course, But to what, just? The greed of craving the warmth, Of another soul? Wise man, if he must, Fall prey to oblivion, For the people might be abhorrent, To the meticulous play of souls, But hear, something is hushed, One heartbeat at a time, Thumping the doors for its release, Just me, I reckon, But how can one fight, Their own soul's ignominy, "Look me in the eyes", The voice hung in the air like fog in winter, Like soft velvet, in the hands of a slimy lady, The sky craving the wild blue yonder, Defiling the night's susceptibility, Against the harshness of the barren roads, And he smiled, for he knew, There's no shame, in wanting another person. Had to write one. Until then. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. A.

Hello. It's Day Three! Incompletion is an art form. As tempted as I was, to leave this post just at that, I don't reckon my blog deserves this humour jolt at three in the morning. Most times, in life, we can't see things through. Can't or won't. In either case, it really is a matter of choice, only one overruled slightly more by fear and insecurities. And, I'm strongly of the belief that certain things in life can't be overcome simply by the sheer gall of being bigger than your fears. But, I'm also of the belief that everything in life is easily ignorable. As trivial as that sounds, the easiest thing in the world is to unlearn what you know than learning something new. So, unearth yourself. Trace back where you begin, and be very clever to let the reason of that beginning be nondescript. It's easy. It's as easy as trying to remember why you started walking. Because, biology. And, yet most of us don't forget to retrace, fall to our kne...

Hello. It's Day Four. I saw a girl who made coffee. Hunched over the notebook, her hand sifted through her hair. The other one wound disturbingly rigid over her pen -  a gesture so simple, and mindless and yet, exuded such great possession, as if she was scribbling God's secret plan for harmony, and wanted to hide His tool, lest everyone found the power behind it. The reflection of the snow on the glass drew stories on her compact stature, and relaxed fingers, both of which that gave nothing away. The primal, worn leather of her notebook, and the rusty and stained tip of her fountain pen, her foot tapping every time Sinatra came on, the heavy cream in her coffee, and the now, very decimated chocolate muffin screamed sonnets about her reservation of belonging to the old world. Yet, the threads of her torn jeans, the scuff on her boots, the red strap of her bra playing peek-a-boo with her cardigan, stood testament of a woman delivered mistakenly by the stork, who was born ...

Hello. It's Day Three. Have you ever experienced time dissolving and vanishing around you? The one thing I crave at this time in my life is Deer Park. It's a massive forest-park in Delhi. For those you who've never lived in a city that has winters, might not understand it. I miss driving down to Deer Park every other weekend in the wee bit hours of morning and walking down every trail I could find, knowing I fathom every part of that place better than the back of my hand, also knowing I'd end up at the Hauz Khas Lake despite the route. Walking through winters there is nothing less than meeting an old lover. The foggy trails and the mist covering the lake even when it's sharp eight in the morning, were the moments I would give all my precious weekend mornings away from. My restlessness always seemed to bid em adieu every time I was in the Park. It would be me, my hour long walks and the chai from Green Park paan-wala thereafter. That place made be cognisant of th...

Hello. It's Day Two. And quite impolitely later than yesterday. The one extremely poignant characteristic of being an architect, I've noticed, is that we're so attuned to making a point to the client or people listening to us, we at times (okay, mostly) end up not listening to each other also. What I've also learned is that, in architecture, simply lending an attentive ear teaches you a lot. I assure you, it's the sharp tongue and that highly befitting vocabulary to seduce you to listen to them. And it's an art, alike all the ones we practice to give you beautiful spaces. To have that aggression for something you built from the ground up, to something so immodest and far from being just an amenity, be spoken in a way, it's attraction at the first listen. It's quite like pottery like that. Disney came out with a new non-Princess Princess. Moana. A Frozen movie at this time of the year would be most appropriate, but it was far from appealing. Disne...

Hello.  It's been surprisingly too long, as has been the year. Inspite of that, I'm subtly disbelieving of how soon I'm doing another BlogMas. Which proves, I should write more often. The past few months have spun out most interestingly. Considering I have been cheeky about updating the blog, and most of you don't know, I moved to a new city. Bombay. Shocking.  Shocking much to my dismay is, how much a new city teaches you about itself. And Bombay excels at that. As beautiful as some parts of Bombay are, it's much at a standstill as  far as living is concerned. People seem to have spent lifetimes without stepping out of their five mile radius. If not, everyone one is fleeting in an absolutely robotic rush to the farthest end of the city - that includes me. There are innumerate brilliant places to visit. And there's also the sea. However, much like everyone in the city, for me, too, the sea is exactly where it is - beyond. Bombay reminds me a lot of the mov...

Trying to make sense of it all, How really were eternities in a moment, Walking down the freezing night, Smelling December in the wind,  The fallen leaves ask, The dimming moon doubts, With everything around questionable, Yet unanswered, Fighting the cold,  Stuffing your hands in the years old jacket, Lathered in dust,  And that's how you've liked it, just because, You feel a crunch, You hold on tight to it, And tighter to your heart, Maybe, just maybe, you know what it is, You hope for it, You've been looking for it ever since, again just because, You take it out, glare at it, turn it around, And feel the familiarity of the words warming through you, And you crunch it along the same folds, And put it back, You know now, where your survival trick lies, You know now, felt it again, Eternities in a moment. By Tom French Blues, Ak.